6 years old

your hands gently
sewing a string around my
neck my
hands over yours,
guiding you to the places that will
hold
me
closest to your chest where your beat is slowing with your
step
my beat still following those
kids in my head that
spin
around in circles till they drop (but they never
do)
this string loosens as my
hands grow shaky over
yours and
i bleed right
through this string and follow those
children
singing like
i wish i could.